Safe
by svuxfanfic
Summary: A small one-shot taken from a Benson/Amaro scene in Undercover Mother. In a sticky situation, Olivia finds she is able to trust her partner to read between the lines. [Bensaro partnership, but could be interpreted as romantic if you are so inclined].


** I actually wrote this a while ago, back when the episode aired. A few of you might have read it from the link I shared on Twitter, but I finally decided eh, why not post it here. ****Like I said- It's very short. I just couldn't get the idea out of my head after I watched. This story picks up right as the party gets "busted," and the UCs, including Olivia, have to get fake-arrested. I would love to hear your thoughts on it in the review section. Thank you!**

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The world around you shutters to an abrupt halt as he spins you harshly, pulling your wrists behind your back.

The fingers that curl around your upper arms belong to safe hands, familiar hands, but the grip is strong and forceful, and that is all your brain manages to capture in the moment. _It's just Nick, _you remind yourself hastily, snapping at your own subconscious to back away from the darkness that laps at the edges. Y_ou're safe. _But the logical part of you is at a sudden disadvantage when the hands are replaced with a bitter slice of cold around your wrists, and the sound of gritting metal sucks out all other noise in the room and fills you with unshakable terror. The familiar sensation of restraint. Your heart skips a beat, then feels like it drops out altogether. The handcuffs are loose, and you expect that much from your partner who is probably enjoying this just as little as you are, but you're still trapped and restrained and back to the feeling of complete vulnerability you promised yourself you would never feel again, and that is _not okay. _

This wasn't part of the plan. You weren't supposed to be the one getting busted here, but now that Murphy has decided to barge into the mix, you have to keep up the facade. Your squad has to improvise, and you have no other choice but to go along with it.

Nick must catch your eyes glazing over as the flashbacks threaten to take hold, because it's as if he suddenly realizes what a detrimental plan this is. You think he tries to shoot you some sort of apologetic glance, but you tune it out because suddenly all you can see is the interior roof an SUV. Then your whole world is thrown back into a messy collage of clanking belt buckles and dainty melodies and your own cries and overwhelming pain.

Nick sees. He recognizes your panic from the get, his face falling into an expression of physical pain as he watches you struggle at his touch. Pressing in closer behind you to hide his gesture from the crowd of people, his hand dips lower, seeking out your fingers to interlace with his. When you register the soft brush of his skin, your breath hitches in your throat, your panicked posture slackening just the slightest.

"I'm sorry," he whispers so softly you almost miss it, even when he's leaning in so closely you can feel the heat of his breath against your neck. You shiver.

His fingers brush quickly over yours again, a reassuring gesture, and its enough to pull you back down to Earth, to the safety of reality. At least long enough to survive until he can escort you out of the room and out of these cuffs.

You're beyond grateful when he takes the initiative to move, prodding you gently forward as your trembling legs betray you. He guides you toward the side door where you know the van will be waiting. Seeming to drop all concerns of blowing his cover, he watches your face intently, searching for any signs of distress. You simply avert your eyes, gritting your teeth as your fists curl over in your cuffs. You are equal parts humiliated and terrified. You resent the powerlessness and exposure you feel, even if you know it's all for show. Your agitation grows with every step, aching to relieve yourself of the oppressive metal. By the time you pass through the threshold and hit the cold nighttime air where you're safely out of earshot, you taste blood on your lip from biting so hard. Refusing to waste another second, you plant your feet defiantly against the pavement, jutting your bound wrists outward.

"Get them off," you hiss through clenched teeth, a bit harsher than necessary, but you can hardly bring yourself to adjust your filter, "Now."

Nick is one step ahead of you as he pushes the already retrieved key into the lock. And with two short clicks, you're free. You can't help the exaggerated sigh of relief that escapes you as you jerk your hands to the front, cradling your wrist out of sheer habit. Dropping your head, you close your eyes and focus on settling your breathing.

"Hey," Nick's voice is smooth and gentle as he ducks into your line of sight, "You okay?"

You settle for a nod, unsure if your voice would be steady enough to convince him at the moment.

"Look, about this," he starts, "I'm sorry. We didn't exactly plan for- Well, we had to make it look real, and I- I still should have figured out something else. I should've known better."

"Nick, stop," you assure him, raising a palm to lay against his shoulder, though you're not entirely sure if it's meant as a gesture for him or an attempt to keep your own balance steady, "You did the right thing. Just like you said, you had to make it look real. I would expect nothing less from my squad."

"Yeah, but I did so at your expense," he insists, "And I can't call that a job well done."

"Enough," you level his gaze, "It _was_ a job well done."

When your words don't seem to penetrate his wall of doubt, you release a decisive breath and opt for the deeper option.

"And don't think I missed the way you looked out for me in there," you add in a reserved voice, "You made sure you got to me before any of the other officers. You were… gentle. You were there for me. You always are. And I appreciate that more than you know."

You watch the change in his eyes, remembering the soft touch of his fingers on yours, and the pain in his voice as he whispered his apology against your ear. In a quick flash of emotion, probably provoked by the unexpected rush of adrenaline you are coming down from, it hits you. Nick is such a wonderful partner. Your eyes dance over his for another second more before you step forward decisively, wrapping your arms around his neck. The shock only takes a him a moment to recover from before his arms accommodate around your waist and he's hugging you back. You close your eyes as your cheek presses against his shoulder, and he probably thinks you're a loon for the sudden gesture of affection, but it's the only way you can think of in the moment to express how you feel. To assure him that when you're in his presence, the only thing you feel is safe.


End file.
